Episode Five — Scene Seven: Exploring The Ace's Lair
Clover tiptoed into the living room, trying to look heroic but failing spectacularly. His shoes squeaked on the polished floor, a sound far too loud for the tense silence. "Okay Ryker's out cold. Nyx is… napping. This is perfect," he whispered, grinning. "Operation: Ace Secrets… commence
He glanced at the bottle on the table, smirked, and pocketed it for later—"just in case heroic inspiration needs a refill."
The house was enormous, every corner shadowed, every shelf lined with things that screamed don't touch me. Clover approached a massive bookcase. Dust floated in streaks of light from the tall windows. He reached for a leather-bound book, sneaking a glance at the "sleeping" Ryker.
"Shh… do not wake the Ace, he muttered, waving an imaginary finger at the snoozing figure. Then, the book slid out smoothly, but… a hidden panel clicked open behind the shelf.
Clover froze. "Ohhh… secret passage! Classic hero stuff!" He leaned in, then recoiled as the floorboard under his foot creaked loudly. "Not so classic… maybe slightly deadly."
He crawled inside the narrow corridor, ducking under low beams. The air smelled of old paper, oil lamps, and something faintly metallic—like danger with a hint of… weird socks? Clover wrinkled his nose.
A shadow moved across the wall ahead. Clover jumped. "Nyx?" he whispered, peeking out. Nothing. Just flickering candlelight making his imagination run wild.
He stumbled over a small rug, landing on his knees with a muffled oof. "Heroic entrance… nailed it," he muttered, brushing himself off.
At the end of the corridor, a desk glimmered in the dim light. Clover approached cautiously. Papers, strange devices, and a few bottles of Ryker's favorite liquor (empty?) cluttered the surface. He picked up a small gadget, spinning it in his fingers. "Hmm… probably important… or explosive… maybe both. Perfect!"
Then a door creaked behind him. Clover whipped around, crouching dramatically. Nothing. Just the wind… or a ghost… or Ryker deciding to test his nerve while "sleeping."
Clover sighed, exasperated but thrilled. "Okay… I am officially a stealthy, brave hero… with minor clumsiness issues."
He peeked at a small trapdoor under the desk. "Hmm… basement? Secret experiments? Hidden relics?" Clover's eyes sparkled. "Adventure awaits!"
Outside, Nyx purred softly, curling up in the sunlit yard, completely unaware that his human was tiptoeing through what could easily be a booby-trapped lair.
Inside, Clover hummed a heroic tune, imagining his victory over unseen dangers. "No one warns the Ace-in-training!"
The shadows seemed to shift around him. The house was full of secrets. And Clover had absolutely no idea what he was about to stumble upon.
Clover crept down the dim hallway, each step echoing like a drum in a haunted mansion. "Okay… totally normal… definitely not about to get eaten by anything," he muttered, forcing a grin.
A sudden clatter made him jump. He swung around—nothing. Just a coat rack swaying like it had a life of its own. Clover squinted. "Ghosts… or Ryker's questionable decorating choices?"
He turned a corner and froze. Dozens of skeletal mannequins, dressed in armor and old uniforms, lined the walls. Their empty eye sockets seemed to stare right at him. Clover swallowed hard, trying to stay calm.
"Hi… guys. Lovely… uh, arrangement," he said nervously. One of them toppled with a clang. Clover yelped, tripped over a loose rug, and landed face-first into a pile of old maps. "Yep… totally heroic," he muttered, dusting himself off.
He glanced at a small chest in the corner. "Treasure? Ancient secrets? Or Ryker's weird hobby of collecting dusty bones?" Clover approached cautiously, only to have a skeleton hand fall off when he touched it. He jumped back, yelping, then laughed nervously. "Okay… okay… maybe it's just… um… a very realistic Halloween decoration."
He peeked around, spotting a dimly glowing orb on a pedestal. "Oooh… shiny! Definitely important… or cursed. Both work." He inched closer, humming a heroic tune to calm himself, though the skeletons seemed even creepier in the flickering candlelight.
Somewhere in the distance, Ryker "snored" softly, a faint smile on his face. Outside, Nyx shifted in the sunlight, utterly unconcerned. Clover, meanwhile, was the picture of nervous excitement, tiptoeing around skeletons and traps, trying to act brave while completely losing it inside.
"This… is… fine," he whispered, inching toward the orb. "Absolutely… fine. Totally fine.
And the shadows seemed to lean closer, like the house itself was waiting to see what Clover would do next.
Clover leaned toward the glowing orb, curiosity buzzing in every nerve. Its surface shimmered like liquid silver-blue light, and he could feel a faint hum against his palm even before he touched it.
"This… this can't be good," he muttered, hovering his fingers above it. But his curiosity won. He brushed the orb lightly.
Instantly, the world around him dissolved. The skeletons, the candlelight, Ryker's snoring—all vanished. Clover tumbled forward, arms flailing. A rush of wind and color swirled around him, and then… stillness.
He blinked.
Clover was no longer in Ryker's house. Before him stretched a beautiful garden, bathed in golden sunlight. Flowers of every hue swayed gently in a soft breeze. A crystal-clear stream wound through emerald grass, and delicate butterflies fluttered overhead. The air smelled sweet and fresh, like a place untouched by time.
"Uh… wow," Clover whispered, taking a careful step. "Okay… not scary, but… definitely not home."
A sword hovered by his side, written on it aetheefrang its silver-blue glow harmonizing with the sunlight, almost as if it recognized the garden. Clover grinned nervously. "Well… at least someone's impressed by my heroic curiosity."
He wandered slowly, scanning the garden. Yet even in this serene place, Clover couldn't stop thinking about Ryker, the diary, and the scrolls he had left behind. Something about this garden felt… purposeful, like it was meant for him to discover something important.
And deep in the garden, hidden behind cascading flowers, a small pedestal glimmered faintly—the same silver-blue glow hinting at secrets yet to unfold. Clover's heart raced.
"Alright spooky houses, skeletons, and magical gardens. Totally normal… totally fine," he muttered, though the smile faltered slightly. His adventure had only just begun.